


Table for Three

by Savoytruffle



Series: Wingman [3]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Play, Light Bondage, M/M, Rimming, Threesome - M/M/M, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-07
Updated: 2011-03-07
Packaged: 2017-12-10 21:59:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/790644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Savoytruffle/pseuds/Savoytruffle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sexual frustration turns Jim’s mind into a five-credit porno theater. Jim turns a romantic Valentine’s Day dinner into a quiet but dirty semi-public negotiation. Bones and a special third party turn Jim into an almost passive object for their pleasure (and Jim’s). Then there’s a brief heart-to-heart. The End.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Table for Three

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [](http://cordelianne.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://cordelianne.livejournal.com/)**cordelianne** for enduring a particularly whiny artistic process this time around.

“Nngh, Bones…Jesus...”

Bones tightens his hands on the back of Jim’s thighs, the press of his fingers into Jim’s skin just skirting the edge of too much.

Jim wants more.

He bucks against the hold, but Bones’ hands loosen instead of tightening.

“Bones!”

“Stop squirming,” Bones says, and since saying anything at all requires Bones to take his tongue out of Jim’s ass, Jim finds himself genuinely contrite.

Well, sort of.

At least until Bones bites straight into the fleshy part of Jim’s right buttock. Jim leg kicks up into the air.

“Fuck, Bones, c’mon,” he whines. “ _Please_.”

“You just hold nice and still, Jim, and let me finish.”

“Easy for you to say,” Jim groans. “Tie me down.”

“Hmm.” Bones runs his hands down to Jim’s calves and back up over his thighs, his right thumb smoothing over the bite mark. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“Fuck necessary,” Jim snaps. “I _want_ it.”

“And _I_ want you to take a deep breath and lie still for me, now, without any help, just because I told you to,” Bones counters, with that same eerie calm and patience that always seems to wash over him when he’s bossing Jim around. (The same one that seems to pop up in medical emergencies). “Also, you’re supposed to be going over the emergency protocols in the event of a warp core breach.”

Bones leans back over and resumes his rimming.

“Fuck protocols,” Jim moans, but he’s doing his best to stay still this time. “I know it, Bones. I promise.”

“Knowing it’s not good enough, Jim. If I’m going to follow you out into the black, I want it pouring through your body and rolling off your tongue when the ship is crumbling around you and you don’t even know your own name.”

It’s annoying that Bones is this articulate right now. Jim’s about to say so when Bones leans in and takes another long, slow lick.

“I do,” Jim cries. “I swear.”

“You were on step four,” Bones reminds him. “You finish it and I’ll finish you.”

“Bastard,” Jim mutters.

“It’s a proven learning method.”

“Proven?” Jim gasps. “Is this how you got through med school so fast?”

Bones laughs, the puff of his breath sending tingles across Jim’s oversensitized skin and blood straight to his dick. “A gentleman never tells.”

 

 

The alarm goes off and Jim wakes to Bones’ half-hard dick nestled against his ass.

“Snooze,” he manages to tell the alarm, before a hungry sound escapes from the back of his throat. He wriggles his hips a bit, hoping to encourage a little early morning delight.

He imagines Bones growing fully hard, pushing up to his knees and rolling Jim over onto his stomach. Imagines Bones catching Jim’s wrists in a rough grip, pinning them to the bed as he shoves Jim’s knees apart with his own, Jim’s body still only half-awake and too weak to resist. Imagines his own voice, broken and breathless, asking Bones about lube, and Bones’ voice, calm and cool, telling Jim he bets Jim’s still loose and slick enough to take him in just like this, without any prep.

He imagines that’s mostly true, but not so true that Jim can’t feel the stretch and burn as Bones’ cock works its way in deep.

And in his fantasy, he’s hard and aching, but Bones doesn’t let him come.

In real life, Jim’s just as hard and almost as aching, but they’re both still lying on their sides and Bones just runs a gentle hand over Jim’s hip and plants a kiss on Jim’s a shoulder, before rolling away and sitting up on the opposite side of the bed.

“You can take the first shower,” Bones says. “I’ll put some coffee on. Make some eggs.”

“Or you could join me,” Jim suggests, sliding over behind Bones and draping himself over Bones’ back, letting Bones feel his erection, his need. “Save time. Save water.”

“’S tempting , darlin’, but I’m pretty sure we wouldn’t do either one. You know Sternlin will have your ass if you’re late again. And you’ll be useless in hand-to-hand afterwards if you don’t get a good breakfast.”

The stupid thing is that Bones is right, on both counts.

Bones in boyfriend mode and Bones in Dom mode have that in common. They both tend to be almost obnoxiously good at knowing what Jim needs, no matter what Jim has to say on the matter.

Bones slips out from under Jim’s arms and stands up. He looks back at Jim on the bed and smiles, shaking his head. “Would’ve thought you’d have gotten enough last night.”

The funny thing is that Jim would have thought so, too.

And yet.

Bones reaches out for Jim’s hand and pulls him to his feet. He kisses Jim and then drops his hand down to curve around Jim’s dick. “You’re still showering alone,” he says, “but why don’t you keep this for me? We can meet back here for lunch.”

“You’re such an asshole,” Jim mutters, as he limps off to the bathroom.

Bones just laughs.

Jim thinks that not jerking off in the shower may be the hardest thing he’s ever had to deal with.

No pun intended.

He wishes Bones would have given him the cock ring to see him through to lunchtime, even if Jim knows very well that wearing it during hand-to-hand would not only be extremely uncomfortable but downright dangerous.

It doesn’t help that Jim’s head seems to have turned into a five-credit porno theater.

The current feature stars a wet and naked Bones standing in the shower stall behind an equally wet and naked Jim, one hand curled around Jim’s hip as he fucks Jim fast and hard, the other hand gripping the back of Jim’s neck, forcing his face directly into the spray of the water, which threatens to choke Jim every time a particularly perfect stroke of Bones’ cock wrenches a cry from Jim’s lips.

Fantasy Jim sputters and coughs, his eyes wet with water and tears, while fantasy Bones slides the hand off Jim’s hip and curls it around the base of Jim’s dick, staving off Jim’s orgasm even as Bones gives into his own.

In real life, Jim’s hands are clenched into fists and he’s given up washing himself halfway through, too turned on to go on touching any part of his body for even a second longer. He slides his finger over the touch pad, turning the water to freezing cold and stands there under it until he feels capable of moving again.

If Bones notices the purple tinge to Jim’s fingernails as he wraps his hand around the warm mug of coffee, he’s decent enough not to mention it.

 

 

Jim fantasizes during breakfast, imagines Bones gagging him and binding him tightly to the table, _making_ Jim the table, and then eating off him while scanning the news feeds like it’s no big thing.

There’s a name for that, actually.

Forniphilia.

Since this whole started a couple months ago – and especially in the weeks since the twelve most intense days of Jim’s sexual life – Jim’s spent a fair amount time on his PADD researching the type of things Bones might come up with.

Preparing himself.

Teasing himself.

Torturing himself.

He hasn’t asked for anything, though. He likes seeing what Bones will come up with. And, besides, it’d be like cheating.

 

 

Jim fantasizes his way through Sternlin’s lecture.

(And, really, why not? At this point, thanks to Bones, he could probably recite emergency warp protocols backwards if he had to, while standing on his head.)

Bones TA’s sometimes for one of the basic med classes. It’s not in this building, but Jim thinks it’s in a lecture hall about this size and shape. He pictures Bones standing up there behind the lectern, imparting wisdom in that crotchety-old-man way he has sometimes – the one that’s kinda ridiculous and kinda ridiculously hot.

Jim imagines himself as one of the med cadets, one who’s struggling with the material. Maybe he needs extra help from the hot TA. Ooh, or maybe he got a little desperate and cheated on one of the exams and now the hot TA has called him out, asking him to stay after class. And Med Cadet Jim knows that Hot TA Bones knows what he did, but he’s trying to keep cool as he walks down front to the dais, waiting to see how things play out.

Still, his body hums with the tension as Hot TA Bones studies his face with that stern, knowing look, letting Med Cadet Jim sweat out a few minutes of silence before quietly telling Jim how he knows exactly what Jim’s done and how it’s going to get Jim kicked out of the academy…unless Jim would prefer to work things out between the two of them. Unless Jim’s willing to take his punishment right here and now, in private.

Well, not so much _private_ as right here in the lecture hall, which is empty, sure, since it is after class, but they both know that anyone could walk right in at any…

“…time we’ll be looking at case studies from warp breaches in the field. Read chapters six through eight and watch the accompanying vids. Dismissed.”

The sound of clattering PADDs and shuffling bodies around Jim alerts him to the fact that class – the _actual_ class he’s been sitting through just now – is over.

He holds his PADD over his crotch as he stands, quickly adjusting himself before joining the flow of students out of the hall.

 

 

Jim does not fantasize during hand-to-hand. There’s way too much close body contact and Jim really he needs to still be able look his sparring partners in the eyes after class.

Also, Starfleet exercise uniforms leave pretty much nothing to the imagination.

A fact which not only makes inappropriate erections extremely inconvenient, but also, seeing as Jim has hand-to-hand five days a week this term, means Bones removed the collar and cuffs at the end of winter break and hasn’t put them back on Jim since.

Which kind of sucks.

But Jim is not thinking about the collar and cuffs right now.

Not about how they felt and not about getting them back.

Not even a little.

See above re: Starfleet exercise uniforms.

 

 

On the walk from the gym to the Bones’ dorm, Jim does all the thinking he hasn’t been doing for the last hour and a half. By the time he arrives, he’s ready for a lot less thinking and a lot more doing.

Or a lot more _being done to_ , as the case may/should/really-fucking-needs-to be.

He’s ready for his wrists to be pinned. He’s ready for his ass to be tanned. He’s ready for this face to be fucked.

Or any combination or variation thereof.

And maybe Jim’s not the only one who’s been thinking about this all morning, because the instant he steps into the room, Bones is on him, pressing Jim back up against the door and holding him there with just the bulk of his body.

(Bones is so fucking _built_ for a doctor and Jim is so fucking _grateful_.)

He’s devouring Jim’ s mouth with his own, even as he shoves a hand down the front of Jim’s cadet reds, not so much groping as…confirming.

“Didn’t jerk off at all, did you?” he whispers against Jim’s lips. “Good boy.”

If Jim wasn’t hard already, he would be now.

Bones fists his hand in the front of Jim’s uniform jacket and tugs Jim toward the bed, shoving him down onto his back, and before Jim really knows what’s happening, Bones has Jim’s pants down over his hips and Jim’s cock in his mouth and it’s good, so good.

So are the slick fingers Bones presses inside of Jim, opening Jim up as his mouth continues its work.

So is the way Bones replaces those fingers with his dick and that mouth with his hand and fucks and jerks Jim to a long-awaited and much-appreciated orgasm.

So, seriously, it’s not like Jim’s complaining or anything. It really is good, it’s just…

Boyfriend sex.

That’s what Jim’s been calling it in his head – this thing that they’ve been having ever since their twelve days and their winter break came to an end.

And don’t get Jim wrong, it’s not that boyfriend sex isn’t new and exciting.

Because it _is_ new.

It’s new to Jim entirely and new to him and Bones specifically.

And it _is_ exciting.

It’s got way more to recommend it than Jim could ever have imagined prior to his first actual, bona fide relationship. It’s easy and comfortable and you can just do what you feel without worrying about showing off or leaving a good impression. And you can laugh and joke or even accidentally drift off in the middle and it’s all okay.

And it’s not boring, not at all – and it’s not like it’s strictly missionary or like Bones doesn’t get bossy about it – but it’s still boyfriend sex and it’s been over a month and there’s this … _thing_ inside of Jim now and it’s hungry and needy and getting pretty fucking _desperate_.

And Jim doesn’t know how _Bones_ doesn’t see it.

Especially since he’s the one who discovered it in the first place.

 

 

“So,” Jim says, sprawled out on the bed and pretending to read off his PADD, but really just watching Bones study, “Valentine’s Day.”

Which are not really words Jim ever expected to hear himself say, relationship or no, but Jim’s now definitely of the opinion that Bones knows how to do holidays _right_.

Bones spins around in his desk chair to smile at Jim. “I’ve been making some plans,” he says.

Jim feels sparks of anticipation flaring in his chest.

And lower.

He grins back at Bones. “Yeah?”

“Well, I was going to make it a surprise, but...” Bones’ eyes are glowing and Jim’s sitting up on the edge of the bed now, waiting. “See, I treated this woman the other day and she knows the head chef at Alcenia’s – you know, that place that’s supposed to have amazing soul food but that’s all but impossible to get into? Anyway, she said she’d put my name on some kinda list and, sure enough, I commed them last week and they gave me a reservation immediately. For _eight o’clock_! On _Valentine’s Day_! Can you believe it?”

No, Jim can _not_ fucking believe it. _That’s_ Bones’ big Valentine’s Day plan?

A _romantic dinner_?

_Really?_

 

 

The next day Jim throws obedience to the wind, hacks Bones’ comm and makes a couple of…rearrangements.

 

 

 

“Good evening and welcome to Alcenia’s.”

Bones steps forward and smiles back at the host. “Thank you, reservation for McCoy.”

She looks down at the reservation console and back up, gaze suddenly become scrutinous. “Ah, yes, Doctor McCoy. I’m afraid we had to change your table in order to accommodate the third seat,” she says in that extra polite tone some people adopt when they think you’re a freak, but would get fired for saying so, “but I think you’ll find the new table…satisfactory.”

“Third seat?” Bones repeats. “But we don’t—”

“Um, Bones…” Jim starts, laying a hand on his shoulder.

But before Jim can continue, a man rushes in and up beside them. The man’s eyes sweep quickly (and appreciatively) over Jim, but he’s careful to actually address Bones. “Sorry I’m late,” he says.

Jim can only spare the man a brief glance – focused as he is on Bones’ expression and gauging exactly how much trouble he’s gotten himself into – but Jim does have time to notice that the guy is even hotter than he actually remembered.

Of course, the club _had_ been dark.

And Jim had been a little…distracted.

There’s an awkward silence as Bones just stares at the guy, like he knows the face but is having trouble placing it in this new context.

 _Guy Number Five_.

That’s how Jim still thinks of him, even though he does have an actual name.

“Suheil!” Jim exclaims with a smile, like they’re best buds whose epic friendship consists of something more than six minutes six weeks ago spent rubbing up against each other on the dance floor for Bones’ entertainment. “Glad you could make it.”

The name seems to jog Bones’ memory and spur him to action. Jim watches Bones size up the situation like he’s preparing to conduct triage.

“Excuse us for a minute,” Bones says to Suheil, before turning to the host. “We’ll be right back,” he tells her, ignoring the fact that she does not look impressed.

Finally, he grabs Jim by the upper arm and starts to ‘guide’ him towards the door. A few feet away, he pauses to look back at Suheil. “Don’t leave,” he says before finishing yanking Jim out to the sidewalk. “Something you meant to tell me, Jim?”

“Uh, I invited Suheil to dinner?”

Bones’ eyebrow twitches. “You don’t say.” He studies Jim’s face. “And what _exactly_ were you hoping to accomplish by doing that?”

Jim decides to stick with his theme of stating the obvious. “Uh, hot Valentine’s Day threesome sex?”

“And you didn’t think it might be a good idea to run this little plan past me first?”

“Well,” Jim says, “you know…”

Bones apparently _doesn’t_ know, since he just keeps staring at Jim, waiting for him to go on.

Jim shrugs. “I, um, wasn’t sure if I was allowed.”

“To run the plan by me?”

“To make the plan at all.”

“Uh huh,” Bones says, “so let me get this straight. You wanted a scene, but you didn’t know if you were allowed to ask for it or help plan it – which you are, by the way – so you decided the best thing to do was just to set it up on your own and then spring it on me?”

“Well,” Jim says, “when you put it that way…” What Bones clearly fails to understand is that plans like these really only work when you _don’t_ think them through.

“And what’s supposed to happen now?” Bones asks.

“Um, the plan didn’t so much run past this point.”

Bones rolls his eyes. “Of course it didn’t.”

“I sorta thought maybe you’d…” Jim trails off with a vague hand gesture and then watches as Bones indulges in a single long-suffering sigh before simply shrugging into his Dom persona like it’s a jacket he was carrying over his arm for just such an occassion.

“We’re not done talking about this,” Bones warns, “but right now, we’re got someone waiting. And I can’t say I fault your taste. _You_ , however, have done enough. From here on out, you speak when you’re spoken to or because you want to safeword. Otherwise, you keep your mouth shut. And don’t even _think_ about trying to back lead. You get what _we_ want to give you when _we_ decide to give it to you. Understood?”

“Understood,” Jim repeats, but the word is insufficient.

Every inch of Jim’s body is full of awareness, agreement, and anticipation.

Topped off with just the right edge of anxiety.

“Good,” Bones says. “And maybe if you show Suheil and me a real good time, and remind me what a nice, obedient boy I know you can be, I’ll be inclined to see your scheming as something more like…initiative.”

Jim remembers just in time not to answer with words. He grins instead.

“Oh, you’ll still be in trouble,” Bones assures him, “but if you play your cards right, I’ll make sure you enjoy your punishment.

Jim’s grin nearly splits his face. He loves it when a plan comes together.

 

 

They’re shown to their table. It is, Jim notes, the only one in the restaurant set for three. Suheil looks uncomfortable.

“Is everything okay?” he asks as soon the host walks away.

Bones doesn’t mince words. “Jim didn’t ask permission to invite you.”

“Jim?” Suheil aks. “I thought…I mean, I never would’ve….The message came from your comm.”

“Mine?” Bones turns to Jim. “Something you forgot to mention?”

Not so much _forgot_ as kinda hoped he wouldn’t have to.

“OhyeahandImayhavehackedyourcomm,” Jim admits as quickly and indistinguishably as possible.

“Look, man, I didn’t mean to overstep,” Suheil says. “Maybe I should go.”

He places his hands on the edge of the table to push his chair back, but Bones lays a hand on his arm.

“No one’s asking you to leave. And besides, if you go now, Jim’s not gonna have a chance to make it up to us. He’d be real disappointed about that, wouldn’t you, Jim?”

Jim nods. “You have no idea.”

“How about, ‘Yes, sir’?” Bones suggests.

“Yes, sir,” Jim says.

Bones smiles. “Good boy.”

Suheil drops his hands from the table and into his lap. “I am totally in.”

 

 

Jim has a little trouble focusing on the menu after that. This turns out not to be an issue.

“I’ll have the barbeque scallops,” Bones informs their slightly frosty waitperson, “and he’ll have the grilled catfish.”

Bones just says it, just speaks for Jim like it’s no big thing, and who knew having this simple choice taken out of his hands – publicly – would leave Jim half-hard in his pants?

“Hands on the table, Jim, where I can see them.”

Bones knew, that’s who.

The sommelier arrives with the wine, automatically pouring the taste into Bones’ glass. Bones swirls and tastes and allows his and Suheil’s glasses to be filled, but blocks Jim’s with his hand. “He won’t be having any.”

Jim grips the edge of the table.

The sommelier rights the bottle, sets it down and walks away.

Bones and Suheil tap their glasses together in a silent toast.

 

 

The waitperson drops off their appetizers. “Can I get you anything else right now?” he asks, even though you can kind of tell he doesn’t want to.

“A pen and paper,” Bones says, “if you don’t mind.”

Jim can’t exactly blame the guy for looking confused. “Excuse me?”

Bones mimes writing with his right hand into his left palm. “You know, the things you keep around for in case the computers go out?”

The waiter walks away in a bit of a huff, but does eventually return with the requested implements.

Bones turns to Suheil. “Here’s how it works,” he says. “Jim gets to say ‘no,’ if he needs to, at any time, but I’m the one who gets to say ‘yes,’ if I want to. And we’re going to work that out right here and now.” He slides the pen and paper across the table. “So how about you tell me what you want to do with – or _to_ – my boy tonight and I’ll let you know whether or not I’m going to allow it to happen?”

Jim can see a blush color Suheil’s face at the question, but he picks up the pad of paper, tapping the pen thoughtfully against it for a few moments before jotting something down. He turns it face down and slides it back over to Bones.

Bones picks it up, turns it over, reads it and smiles. “Smart way to start, buttering me up.”

“Not at all,” Suheil says. “Just wanted to know if that was on the table.”

“It is now,” Bones says.

Encouraged, Suheil takes the pad back and jots something else.

Bones glances at it and nods. “Of course, it’s only fair. In fact,” he pauses to scribble a few lines below Suheil’s, “you have options.”

Suheil takes the pad back and looks them over. “The third,” he says. “Definitely number three.”

“Excellent choice.” Bones nods again, looking thoughtful. “Yeah, we can do that up real nice.”

Suheil flips the page, writes something new and passes it back to Bones.

Bones chuckles. “Absolutely out of the question, but can’t say as I blame you for asking.”

Suheil shrugs. “Had to try.” A look appears on his face and he grabs the pad, scribbles something new and passes it back. “How about a counter offer?”

Whatever it is, it obviously surprises Bones and this time he laughs loud enough that it probably draws some attention to their little table for three. “Have to admit, I did _not_ see that one coming. You’ve got a pair, I’ll give you that.”

“That doesn’t sound like a ‘no,’” Suheil notes.

“Mmm, I do like a man who knows how to listen carefully.” Bones says, casting a pointed look in Jim’s direction (which is totally unfair when Jim has been denied the chance to come to his own defense). “Give me a minute to think on it.”

The food arrives during the silence. Bones rips the used pages off the pad and stuffs them in his pocket, then hands the pad and pen back to the waitperson. “Thanks,” he says, “they were very helpful.” When the waitperson walks away, Bones turns back at Suheil. “I think we have a deal.”

Suheil nods and then looks at Jim – looks Jim over. “Can’t wait,” he says.

Bones will tell Jim later that, while the service was poor, the food was fantastic.

For his part, Jim doesn’t taste a single bite.

 

 

The waitperson, of course, provides them with their bill at the earliest possible opportunity and doesn’t bother to assure them that there’s no rush.

Bones, being Southern and all, has no difficulty ignoring this and smiling politely while making sure they take their sweet time over coffee and dessert.

The best part, though, comes when they finally have finished and are standing up, putting on their coats. Bones reaches out, casual as can be, and slips a hand around the back of Jim’s neck, pulling him in for a distinctly non-fleeting kiss.

“Now our guest, Jim,” Bones instructs as they break apart. “We wouldn’t want him to feel left out.”

Jim moves over to Suheil and treats him to an equally non-fleeting kiss.

“Good,” Bones says when Jim’s finished, “let’s go.”

Jim can feel every eye in the restaurant following them as they walk out.

 

 

Jim spends the transport ride back to campus running scenarios in his head, trying to fit Suheil’s pen strokes and Bones’ responses to possible requests.

Possible scenarios.

Possible orders.

By the time they‘re walking down the hall to Bones’ room, Jim’s body is humming with arousal and adrenaline. It’s almost too much, but then Bones’ hand lands at the small of Jim’s back, heavy and warm, grounding him.

“Jim,” Bones says, as they step inside, “why don’t you take Suheil’s coat and then get him a glass of water?”

The coat rack is all of two feet from where they’re standing and they had plenty of water over dinner. At first Jim thinks it’s still about the control, but once he’s actually carrying out the tasks, he realizes it’s something else entirely. The actions establish Jim’s belonging in the space – Bones’ space, _their_ space – and remind him that nothing happens here that Bones _and Jim_ don’t want to happen.

Jim smirks as he walks out of the kitchenette, approaching Suheil with swagger in his step, moving in close enough to let their bodies brush as he hands over the water. Bones clears his throat and Jim pastes on his least credible expression of innocence as he steps back and turns to face Bones.

Bones closes the distance between them and curls a hand along Jim’s jaw, stealing a long, quiet moment to search Jim’s eyes for hesitation or fear. Jim does his best to project confidence and anticipation and, a second later, he’s rewarded with the answer to the question he didn’t even realize he was still asking.

Bones _does_ want this.

Beneath the care and concern in his eyes lie desire and _need_ – and seeing them there fills Jim with relief.

And the answering desire to give Bones everything he could ever ask for.

And more.

Jim watches Bones’ tongue pass over his lips and feels himself mimic the motion. Bones leans in for a brief touch of their slick lips, then drops his hand from Jim’s face to Jim’s shirt, where he starts slowly pushing each button out of its hole.

Their eyes are locked on each other, but Jim knows Suheil is still there behind him, watching, and goosebumps spread across Jim’s arms as Bones slides the unbuttoned shirt off Jim’s shoulders and lets it fall to the ground.

“So fucking perfect,” Bones mutters, under his breath, almost like it’s not part of the game at all.

He lets his hand slide further down Jim’s body, cupping Jim’s cock through the stiff, heavy fabric of his jeans, rubbing with the heel of his palm.

“I was thinking you could go put a few things on for us,” Bones says, his voice louder now, but still low, smooth. “We’ll wait over here and take care of some other business.”

“On?” Jim smirks, gaze traveling down along his own naked torso to Bones’ hand. “I thought we were heading in the other direction.”

Bones raises an eyebrow. “I wasn’t taking about clothes, Jim.”

The lights in Jim’s head go from ten percent to full power. He all but stumbles around the bed and over to the closet, rummaging past their hanging uniforms for one little box.

The box Jim’s considered taking out so many times without permission.

The box he has permission to open now.

Bending over, he unfastens his boots and yanks them off without ceremony, followed by his socks. Taking off shoes and socks is pretty much never sexy and they always get in the way. He doesn’t touch his jeans, though– if Bones wanted Jim’s jeans off, they’d be off already, and besides, Jim loves the way the ankle cuffs look peeking out from under a hem at the top of his bare feet.

He’s pretty sure Bones loves it, too.

He takes the larger cuffs out of the box first, closing them around each ankle in turn and locking them in place with the Allen key. He straightens up and takes a second to admire the look before pulling out the other two cuffs and locking one over each wrist.

He reaches back into the box, his fingers closing around the collar. He lifts it, testing its weight, and then pauses to look over his shoulder, wanting to see if Bones and Suheil are watching him.

Bones and Suheil are _not_ watching him.

Bones and Suheil are making out.

With each other.

A lot.

And, holy shit, Jim thinks it may be the hottest thing he’s ever seen.

The collar slips from his hand and falls to the carpet with a soft thump.

Jim, meanwhile, is mesmerized. It’s Bones, but it’s Bones with someone else, negotiating new logistics and dynamics – who does what, what goes where, where things go. This is Bones sharing control, but in a distinctly un-boyfriend-sex kind of way. This is Bones going at it with a hot guy he barely knows just because it’s fun.

He gets it now, why Bones likes watching Jim with other people. Not that Jim ever minded being watched, he just didn’t realize he ought to be begging Bones for the privilege of watching for a change.

The collar is still lying on the floor, but Jim can’t look away.

“Pick that up, Jim, and bring it over here. With the key.”

Bones has barely broken from his kissing and hasn’t bothered to turn around, but there he goes with that magical emergency medical training that seems to give him super-senses and somehow allows him to know everything that’s happening in a thirty meter radius without ever pulling his focus from his primary patient.

Jim kinda loves medicine.

He picks up the collar and carries it across the room, disappointed that Bones and Suheil have stopped making out, but pleased to have both their eyes on him. Something about Suheil watching as Bones moves behind Jim to place the collar around Jim neck and lock it shut feels like the most intimate thing they’ve done so far.

Bones pulls Jim back, bringing their bodies flush with each other, Bones’ cock pushing against Jim’s ass, and it’s definitely harder than it was before.

Harder from grinding up against Suheil while they licked and bit at each other’s lips.

“Suheil thinks I owe him a blow job for all that teasing I did at the club.” Bones breath brushes the back of Jim’s neck as he speaks. “I figured by this point I probably owed him a bit of interest, too, so I asked him if whether he wanted you to do it with your hands bound behind your back, with your hands bound behind your back and a blindfold on, or with your hands bound behind your back and the two of us taking turns fucking your pretty mouth.” Bones slides his hands slowly down Jim’s arms, drawing them together as he goes until he’s holding Jim’s wrists together with one hand at the small of Jim’s back. “Oh, or, you know, D, none of the above. Do you remember which one he decided on?”

Jim replays the discussion from dinner. “Number three,” he says, even before his brain finishes translating what that means.

“Got it in one,” Bones announces proudly as he snaps a clip over Jim’s wrist cuffs, binding them together. “On your knees, darlin’.”

Jim’s gotten very good at kneeling with no hands.

Suheil steps forward and Bones helps him to open his fly and push down his briefs, but doesn’t let him take off his pants. Jim’s mouth waters. It always feels dirtier when the person whose dick you have in your mouth hasn’t even bothered to take off his clothes.

And then, finally, Suheil’s dick is _in_ Jim’s mouth and Jim is doing his very best to make Bones proud and pay Bones’ debt in full.

“Oh, yeah. Oh, fuck. Fuck, yeah, that’s so good,” Suheil’s saying, but the worst/best part is that he’s not talking to Jim. He’s talking to _Bones_. “Shit, he’s so... Like he was born to do this.” Suheil’s got Jim’s head now, holding it in place as he takes over the pace. “Or did you make him this way? Train him to be such a good little slut? To take it so well?”

“Little bit of both,” Bones says, like he’s trying to sound modest. Like they’re talking about fucking horse breeding or something and it’s all Jim can do to focus on his breathing and not come in his pants. “Mind if I cut in?”

Suheil steps back and Bones appears in his place, taking Jim’s head in his own hands and pushing straight into Jim’s mouth, right to his limit.

“Yeah,” Bones says after a minute, “he really is the best, isn’t he?”

Suheil murmurs his agreement and they just carry on like that for who knows how long, trading off every few minutes, sometimes focused down on Jim, but always talking only to each other and occasionally ignoring Jim altogether to make out far above his head, like Jim’s mouth and its ministrations are something to take for granted. Like he’ll just keep sucking until someone tells him to stop.

Which is exactly what Jim does.

It’s like he’s on auto-pilot now. Not numb, just blissed out, high on giving himself over as the perfect, passive object for another’s – for two others’ – use.

Suheil withdraws and Bones steps in front of Jim again. Jim sways forward, ready to take him back in, but Bones holds him back with a hand on his shoulder. “Stop, Jim.”

Jim looks up, confused, but Bones smiles down at him.

“Don’t worry, Jimmy, you’re doing great. It’s just we’ve got other plans for the grand finale.”

Jim offers a bleary smile in return as Suheil appears on Jim’s other side and helps Bones lift Jim to his feet. Jim sways a bit.

“Are you sure he’s okay?” Suheil asks.

Bones uses a hand to steady Jim’s face so he can check Jim’s eyes for signs of coherence. Jim’s afraid they may be scarce.

“I need you to tell me if you want to continue, Jim. You’ve been so, so good for us. No one’s gonna think less of you if you want to stop.”

Jim summons all his effort to come up with something resembling the signature Jim Kirk smirk. “What and miss the grand finale? You going soft on me, Bones?”

Bones snorts and rolls his eyes at Suheil. “He’s fine. Let’s get him naked.”

There’s not much to go, just the jeans, but efficiency doesn’t seem to be the primary goal. Jim thinks he could really get used to two sets of hands working over his body. When they’ve had their fill of undressing him, Bones orders Jim to wait for them on the bed and they go about undressing each other.

Hands still bound behind his back and flushed dick jutting out from his body, Jim sits back on his heels and drinks in the sight of the two gorgeous men about to finish ravishing his body.

Finally, the two break apart and Bones retrieves the lube from the bedside table. He takes in Jim’s position and shakes his head. “C’mon, Jim, you can do better than that. Suheil already knows there’s no way I’m letting him fuck your ass, so the least you can do is give him a good view.”

Hands-and-knees requires hands, so Jim is forced to bend all the way forward until his cheek is pressed into the mattress, ass pushed high in the air. He can still see Bones at the side of the bed, but Suheil must be behind Jim, looking his fill.

Jim watches Bones snap open the lube.

“Don’t suppose you’d let me do the honors?” Suheil asks.

Jim watches Bones consider this.

“Why not?” Bones concludes after a moment. “We’ll consider it an audition for later.”

Jim spends a moment trying to figure out this comment, but then gets distracted by the foreign fingers working their way into his ass. And by the play of expressions across Bones’ face as he observes the proceedings.

For a minute or two, both are equally fascinating.

By the time the balance tips decidedly away from watching Bones watch in favor of fucking himself back onto Suheil’s thick but nimble fingers, Bones is pretty much done with the watching anyway. The foreign fingers disappear, replaced by the familiar feeling of Bones’ grip on Jim’s hips and Bones’ cock buried balls deep.

Jim nearly comes on the spot, but Bones anticipates and gets a good tight grip around the base of Jim’s cock. Then he starts thrusting.

As grand finales go, letting Suheil watch them fuck seems a little anti-climactic – no pun intended – but Jim’s had a pretty amazing time overall and being fucked by Bones is never a _bad_ thing.

“Ready?” Suheil asks.

Jim perks up. _Ready for what?_

“Yeah,” Bones breathes, stilling inside of Jim. “Just go easy. It’s been awhile.”

Jim’s eyes go wide. _No way._

But, sure enough, Jim can feel the bed shift with the addition of Suheil’s weight and hear the sound of the lube snapping back open. Even better, he can feel the twitch in Bones’ hips which has to mean Suheil is working that first finger into Bones.

Into _Bones_.

_Holy shit._

And Jim’s lucky Bones still has a hold of Jim’s dick, because Jim really wants to remain present for what happens next.

What happens next is a whole lot more twitching, leading to squirming, bordering on thrusting. And, with Bones’ cock still hard and still buried inside of Jim, all these things would be pretty damn pleasurable in their own right, but it’s the physical evidence of how much Bones is starting to _enjoy himself_ that really blows Jim’s mind.

And then the prep is over and Bones is actually being fucked.

Bones is actually being fucked _into_ Jim.

Suheil is fucking Bones into Jim, and the rhythm is rough and uneven and sweaty and amazing and Jim’s not sure if Bones finally lets go of his cock by design or distraction, but either way, with that gone, no power on earth could stop Jim from coming hard and long into the sheets below him.

Bones and Suheil both follow quickly after and Bones sounds so totally wrecked when his orgasm hits that Jim figures he might be jerking off to the memory of it for the rest of his natural life.

Or at least until next week.

As grand finales go, Jim concludes with the very last of his functioning brain cells, this one is pretty fucking grand, indeed.

Of course, it might have been better if Jim _hadn’t_ just collapsed into his own wet spot.

But, hey, nothing’s perfect.

 

 

 

On the one hand, mornings after big scenes tend to be a bit of a letdown, like some sort of sex hangover.

On the other hand, they’re also the mornings when Bones tends to cook up big and satisfyingly unhealthy breakfasts complete with moderate amounts of grease and to refrain from comment as Jim stuffs himself silly.

Which is why, _this_ morning, Jim is determined to look on the bright side of life. He’s surround by the smell of bacon and waffles, he’s just had a second shower (the first was last night after Suheil left), and he’s finally feeling clean.

He’s also totally ready to get dirty again.

“Looks awesome,” he says, sitting himself down in front of a full plate and a steaming cup of coffee. He shoves a big bite of waffle into his mouth, which he’s still chewing as he continues, “So, when’s my punishment?”

Bones laughs and shakes his head. “Jesus Christ, Jim, give a man a couple days to recover.”

A couple days. That’s what he thought it would be last time. Jim’s next bite – eggs and some fried potato – is slower. He chews for a minute, then picks up his cup of coffee and washes it down.

“Jim?” When he looks up Bones is looking at him. “What’s wrong?”

Jim shakes his head. “Nothing. Forget it.”

Bones frowns. “Look, I know you’re a full throttle kind of guy, but trust me, you’ve gotta slow things down once in a while. Even Jim Kirk can’t leave it dialed up to eleven _all_ the time.”

Jim sighs and takes another bite of his waffle, though it doesn’t taste nearly as good as his first. “It’s not that,” he mumbles.

“What is it, then? You gotta talk to me, kid. Was it too much last night?”

“No!” Jim grips the table in frustration. “God, no. I _needed_ that. I just… I don’t… I mean…”

“Jim...?”

“Why didn’t you know?” Jim blurts.

Bones blinks at him. “Huh?”

“It’s just…you _always_ know. You know what I want – what I _need_ – before I do. It’s crazy and creepy and awesome and it’s not like I _wanted_ to go behind your back. I was _trying_ to be patient because I knew you were going to…. Only you didn’t.”

Bones sighs. “I hate to break it to you, Jim, but I’m a doctor, not a mind-reader.”

Jim looks down at his plate again, pushing a piece of bacon away from the running egg yolk. It makes sense, of course. Bones being only human. And really, as far as humans go, he’s pretty fucking awesome. But still, Jim can’t help but feel a bit of…disappointment.

“Maybe I did know.”

Jim looks up. “What?”

Bones shrugs. “Yeah,” he says. “Maybe I just wanted to wait you out. Maybe I wanted to see how long it would take for you to break down and ask for what you needed. Granted, you didn’t so much _ask_ as scheme – and we really are going to want to work on that – but the principle is the same. It was still good, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Really good,” Bones says. “Even though you were the one who initiated it, not me.”

“Yeah.”

“So maybe I thought it was time you realized you’re in control here, too. That you can take part in the planning outside of a scene and still give yourself over completely once we’re in it.”

Jim eyes Bones skeptically. “So you’re telling me this was your plan all along?”

Bones looks right back at Jim without blinking. “Worked out, didn’t it?”

“And you’re _not_ just making this up right now to make me feel better?”

Bones shrugs again. “Could be. I guess the real question is whether you really wanna know the answer.”

Jim considers this for a moment, then slowly shakes his head.

Bones, he decides in that moment, is totally a mind-reader. He’s an all-seeing, all-knowing, all-powerful sex god who could absolutely make Jim orgasm with the power of his mind alone.

If he wanted to.

Jim takes another bite of his waffle and nods.

That’s his story and he’s sticking to it.

 

 

_Fin._


End file.
